Anniversary
by Alexandrian Heiress
Summary: Jessica opens up to Angelo while reminiscing about her past. But what begins as a simple heart to heart soon develops into something deeper.
1. Chapter 1

Jessica kneeled in the little courtyard beside the chapel, the cool grass tickling her skin. She traced the letters chiseled into the gravestone, though she could recite them by memory – _Alistair Albert, Devoted Son, Adoring Brother, Honored Protector and Friend_.

She could hear his footsteps only out of practice; his tread was so quiet it was almost feline, and she had to train her ears to hear his approach. Thankfully, he desired her company often enough that she was in good practice. She was grateful for his presence, even though she had thought she wished to be alone for this.

"The anniversary isn't the hardest," he murmured, keeping his distance but still extending an air of comfort.

"You've been tricking information out of the servants again," she quipped, though her ire was only half-hearted. She imagined him shrugging, as if she were simply stating the obvious. She hadn't told him the date of her brother's death.

"It's not the moments that you expect will make you the saddest that usually do. It's the moments of joy when you wish most passionately that they were here to join in the celebration," he went on.

Jessica nodded. "I grieve the things I know he would have enjoyed. The things he's missing. The things I no longer get to share with him."

Angelo closed the distance between them and knelt beside her in the dewy grass. He didn't touch her, though she could feel he wanted to. Not inappropriately, she knew. Not now, in this moment. But she could sense how badly he wanted to console her.

"I imagine you've been missing him all the more now, with that being said."

"And why is that?" she asked, a small amount of sarcasm in her tone.

"Because you've been so much happier with me present," he teased.

She nudged his shoulder with her own, but he didn't take the bait, only reaching out and clasping her hand in his.

"You have, haven't you?" There was a note of honest vulnerability in his words that was so very rare for him. Those moments were becoming more common as their relationship blossomed now that he was staying with her in Alexandria. But even with all the barriers between them that had crumbled over time, he was still Angelo, a master of poker and a keeper of secrets.

Turning away from the headstone for the first time, she stared up into his pearly blue eyes, noticing a depth to them that he didn't usually reveal. It shattered her regular defenses and left her feeling uncomfortably exposed. She could not summon her usual sarcastic remarks in the face of his blunt emotion. "I have," she answered simply.

He smiled a very soft, tender-hearted smile, more genuine than was customary for him, and dug an object from the inner pocket of his uniform.

"What's that?" she inquired, her heart suddenly racing with curiosity and anxiety.

His smile grew a shade sadder, somewhat overcast. "It was a gift."

She studied it as he turned it over in his hand. It was a simple but beautiful gold ring. It was set with a rosary made of ivory, a tiny ruby at its center. A Templar's ring, obviously, but a very special one. It wasn't the standard kind of ring Angelo wore himself. "From Marcello," she guessed.

He nodded. "It was the one he gave me the last time we saw one another. Just before he disappeared for good."

"Angelo," she whispered, unsure of how to respond.

"I chose it. When Marcello was promoted to Templar captain in the abbey, Abbot Francisco called me to his residence and told me to pick my favorite ring, the one I would want if I were ever made captain. This is the one I chose. He told me that that would be the one he would present Marcello with at the ceremony. We never told anyone; we both knew Marcello would never accept it if he knew I'd had a hand in it. Even so, I was secretly very pleased that I could give him a sort of gift on such a special occasion. I was so thrilled, in fact, that I even engraved an _A_ on the inside of it. Very small, of course, so he wouldn't see it. But I wanted him to have a part of me with him on his big day." He sighed quietly, as if the story had tired him. "Ironic that he would someday find a reason to return it."

Jessica leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling his grief as powerfully as she felt her own. And yet, there was a certain amount of light pervading that moment. Being with Angelo, sharing herself with him, felt comfortable and right. It was how she envisioned someone would feel when fulfilling some fated destiny.

"I've valued many things in my life," he continued, some of his joy returning to him and coloring his words. "A stiff drink and a handy deck of cards have always been among my most favored relics," he joked, making her grin and roll her eyes. "But now that it has found its way back to me, I own nothing that carries as much worth as this ring. And from this day forward, I never want you to be without it."

She caught her breath, stunned by both his speech and the honesty in his expression. "Angelo, I couldn't take something that valuable."

Disregarding her protest, he slipped the ring onto her finger, then continued to hold her hand in his own. "You are what I cherish most. This ring now stands only as a symbol of how deeply I treasure you. It is greater a belonging to me than all the diamonds in the earth, and I want you to wear it always so that you know in your heart your own fantastic worth."

She swallowed nervously, but knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was what she wanted, also. She wanted to spend the rest of her life bickering with this infuriating man, sharing her deepest secrets with him, and loving him more passionately than she could love any other person. "It will never leave my finger," she promised, meaning it with all she had in her.

His smile widened jubilantly. "I swore ages ago someday I would make you my wife, Jessica Albert. And I'm going to make good on that promise."

"You damned well better," she threatened playfully, leaning in to brush her lips against his and sealing their betrothal with a kiss that rivaled that of any fairy tale.


	2. Wedding Night Reassurance

Jessica was not so sheltered that she knew nothing of how the world operated. She was no saint – a fact that her mother complained of often. And her fiery spirit was enough to help her face numerous perils. She welcomed adventures and feared little.

But even her wild manner wasn't enough to keep her from dreading her wedding night. She was a virgin, she admitted bluntly to herself, and Angelo was not. He had bedded so many women for both pleasure and professional gain before their betrothal that she felt uncharacteristically intimidated.

The wedding itself had been a blissful event. No expense was spared on behalf of the Albert family for the young heiress beloved by her village. All the townsfolk were there to give their well-wishes, as were most of the residents of Port Prospect, the harbor that the Albert family sponsored. Jessica could even say that she was the only woman in the world to have both a princess and a pirate as her bridesmaids, and a prince and an ex-thief as the groomsmen. Princess Medea and her knight in shining armor, accompanied by Yangus and his sketchy but not all bad lady friend, Red, had all travelled to Alexandria for the blessed event and stood with them as they made their vows. A few jokes were pulled, as was their style, but mostly the emotions ran so high that there was nary a dry eye in the chapel. The party afterward had been sensational, lasting late into the night until most everyone was too drunk to go home without an escort.

She tried to prepare herself for Angelo's arrival; he was off tending to the last of the servants and caterers, tipping them for their hard work. She was alone, for the moment, in her room. A larger bed had replaced her childhood bed, and the few belongings Angelo kept had already been moved in.

She was surprised they had waited this long. Angelo clearly wasn't the traditional type, and she was no angel herself. But she had kept herself so distant from him for most of their peculiar relationship that when the lines began to blur, she found herself clinging to this one last barrier between them. He had broached the subject many times, but had never pressured her. He was a cad, yes, but also a gentleman in his own strange way, and he loved her enough to let her decided when she was ready.

Jessica couldn't relax, waiting impatiently and anxiously for her new husband to return. She tried several times to rearrange herself on the bed, to make herself optimally appealing, but came up unsatisfied every time. She had just collapsed onto her back with a groan of frustration, declaring defeat, when Angelo opened the door and slipped inside.

He grinned down at her, making her feel elated and uncomfortable simultaneously. "You're as exquisite as a goddess. And as disheveled as a harried busboy."

She glared at him, then moaned and covered her face in humiliation.

"Now, now," he soothed, sitting beside her on the mattress. "There's no need to hide. I've waited too long for this. I _need_ you, my wife."

He gently removed her hands from her face and brushed her scorching hair out of her eyes.

"You're timid tonight. Tell me," he insisted, reading her like a book.

She frowned, then rested against his strong but slender physique. "You're my first. And I'm…" She couldn't finish her statement. She read his expression, sensing he was about to speak, and immediately assumed he would make some sarcastic remark about her ridiculous insecurities. Which was why she was surprised by what he said next.

"You are my first. Perhaps not in the classic sense, but certainly in the ways that matter. I have laid with other women, perhaps. But I have loved no one but you. I have not made, nor will I ever make love with anyone but you. I have taken pleasure and given pleasure. But with you, I will give you my soul, my heart, and take yours in return. I will please you until you cannot bear any more pleasure, and so you will please me. You will be my first just as much as I will be yours. And tonight will be a night of wondrous awe, not one of fear or shame. I love you, Jessica, my wife. Tonight, I will show you just how much."

He reached down to unclasp the button of her bridal lingerie. And in a stroke of boldness, she began to unbutton his lavish wedding suit. She kissed him in a way she hadn't kissed him before. Now, she wasn't the angry girl he had met so many months ago, bent on revenge borne out of her overwhelming grief. She wasn't the bitter, distant young women who kept him at bay with a barrage of snide remarks. Nor was she the scared new bride afraid that she wouldn't measure up, afraid of being just another notch in this man's bedpost. She was a wife, his wife, and tonight she would rejoice in all the freedom, ecstasy, and empowerment that bestowed upon her.

"Then you'd better brace yourself," she taunted, tossing her brilliant red curls over her shoulder and winking one of her big brown eyes at him. "It seems I have a lot of lost time to make up for."


End file.
